


Agatha Christie and the Mystery on the Red Planet

by vanillafluffy



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: AU, Aftercare, F/M, Survival, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 15:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14834927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: Prompt: Would any others on the crew have been able to survive on Mars? And since it was dealer's choice, I asked, what if it was the littlest crew member who was stranded on Mars...?





	Agatha Christie and the Mystery on the Red Planet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts).



Everyone is talking at once--of course, Beth is delighted to have rendezvoused with _Hermes_ , it’s wonderful to see her crewmates again--it feels so weird to occupy the same space as other people--not talking to them on screens or vastly delayed transmissions, but face-to-face. It’s a good thing they’re people she knows well--after so long alone, having company is going to require some getting used to.

They’ve all been apologizing, which is silly. They’d had telemetry that looked like she was dead _and_ a monster storm threatening the MAV-- she certainly doesn’t blame them for leaving; she would’ve done the same thing if the roles were reversed.

Watney looks like hell--clearly, he’s been carrying around guilt for not being able to catch her on their retreat from the HAB. He’s already said he’s sorry four times. Well, she’s fine, he can get over it now.

It’s so good to see Commander Lewis. Beth lets out a huge, quivering sigh; she’s always thought of herself as more of a follower than a leader--finally, she can lay down all that responsibility for survival, or rather, share it…they still have to get back to Earth, she reminds herself, but that’s a lot easier with six heads to solve problems.

“I know we all want to know the secrets to her success,” Melissa says, dismissing Martinez to the bridge and sending Vogel to secure the VAL, “but right now, she needs medical attention more than chit-chat.”

“You’ll just have to wait for my book!” Beth calls after them mischievously. “I’m thinking of calling it, _‘The Out of This World Guide to Diet and Survival’_. Catchy, huh?”

“Let me guess,” Chris Beck mutters. “You’ve been living on vitamin supplements and boogers for the last few months?”

“Ow!” she complains, because he’s stuck her twice attempting to find a vein with the big-bore IV line he’s trying to insert. That’s not like him. “I’ll have you know, I made my rations last the whole time I was there, about half a pack a day. And yes, tons of supplements. Thank God for supplements.”

“Sorry, kid,” he whispers. His blue eyes are unusually bright, and…are his hands shaking? “I’m not trying to hurt you--you’re enough of a mess. I mean--”

“Look at the bright side,” she whispers back, because the Commander is in the corridor just beyond the hatch. “You have a perfectly legitimate excuse for us to play doctor.”

His eyes widen, and he hits the vein almost without looking at it--he’s too busy staring at her. 

“Before…you never said….”

“I had a long time to think about it…about all those signals I thought I was getting…I’m glad I was right. That could’ve been awkward.”

“Okay, I’ve managed to persuade NASA and the world’s media outlets to allow you some downtime before they pounce,” the Commander informs her, reentering the infirmary. “Brace yourself.”

“I expected NASA, but--the world?!”

“The world has been praying for you--for all of us.”

“That’s very nice of them,” is Beth’s dazed answer, and behind her, Chris chuckles. “I’m not being sarcastic,” she protests. “I never imagined, when I was all alone on Mars, that I wasn’t alone at all. I mean, yes, I believe in God, and say what you want, I think God helped me--but I didn’t expect a cheering section, too!”

“God helped you?” Well, he’s a Man of Science (and one of the most serious guys she’s ever met), so no wonder he sounds skeptical.

“Well, I didn’t die on Sol 6. I managed to survive on very limited rations, I didn’t have any catastrophic equipment failures, I made it to the Ares 4 site with no major difficulties, I’m _here_ , which is absolutely huge--I had to work hard for it, but all kinds of terrible things that could have gone wrong, didn’t. Call it God, call it luck--whatever you want to call it, I call it a second chance, and--”

One of the monitors is making shrill noises. “Okay, Beth--take it easy.” Chris’s voice is soothing. “I’m going to knock you out for a little while and let you soak up some nutrition. Rest now.”

When Beth’s eyes open again, Watney is sprawled on the other bunk. He looks up from his tablet. “Beck is off working on some labs, he asked me to keep an eye on you. How are you feeling?”

She stretches experimentally. “Not too bad.”

“Hungry?”

“Yes, please--anything!”

Mark grins and produces the most beautiful thing she’s seen in many, many Sols: a bar of chocolate. Not just any candy bar, but her favorite, with raisins and peanuts embedded in milk chocolate. “Resupply--your Mom told somebody you liked this kind, so we’ve got a bunch of them just for you. Do you need some time alone with it?”

Beth has bitten off a corner and moans slightly as it melts to gooey sweetness in her mouth. “That is the best thing ever,” she says at last. “I ran out of granola bars 41 Sols ago, and they were getting pretty stale toward the end.”

Mark wants to know the nuts and bolts of how she survived--how she created air and water, her explorations and experiments--answering all his questions at length prolongs how long her treat lasts. She’ll have to do the math and figure out how many there are, divided by the length of the voyage home. Home! 

“I read a lot of Agatha Christie,” she tells him when she’s licked the last crumbs of chocolate from the wrapper. “You’d be surprised by how helpful that was, especially for attitude.”

“Helpful? A bunch of moldy old murder mysteries with butlers butling and gossipy spinsters?”

“Sure. In this case, I knew the killer was the whole freaking planet. I just had to look at my situation as the ultimate Locked Room Mystery. No one else could solve it but me.” 

“I’ve gotta say, Beth, I’m impressed.” Mark Watney is uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t think I could’ve done it.”

…


End file.
